


He Don't Use Jelly

by Lalalli



Series: The Applebirds and The Applebees [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Flirty!Fitzsimmons, Friends With Benefits, Humor, Jealousy, Masturbation, Nagini - Freeform, Nudity, Oblivious!Jemma, UST, dumb science babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 16:24:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5974006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lalalli/pseuds/Lalalli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He uses Vaa-aa-aaaaseline!</p><p>Jemma goes on a date.  Fitz isn't jealous.  Not at all.  He doesn't care one bit.</p><p>Sequel to The Applebirds and The Applebees</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Don't Use Jelly

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from "She Don't Use Jelly" by The Flaming Lips.
> 
> You'll probably want to read "The Applebirds and the Applebees" before this in order to understand what's going on.

Fitz has always loved watching Jemma cook. She cooks the way she does chemistry, with everything precisely measured and timed and _mise en place_ , which is a fancy French way of saying ‘super anal-retentive about everything.’

But tonight, her natural ease in the lab is not translating to their buttercup yellow kitchen. Her shoulders are hunched to her ears, she keeps scanning the counter for things that are right in front of her, she loses track of what she’s doing. As Fitz hands her the measuring cup full of vegetable broth that she’s searching for, he shoots her a questioning glance - _What’s wrong?_

Jemma takes the broth appreciatively and gives him a look that says, _Later._ So Fitz decides to be patient because he knows Jemma will always come to him to help her find the words for the abstractions and feelings she doesn’t yet know how to express.

Once the broth has come to a boil, Jemma puts the lid on the pot full of couscous and turns off the burner before turning to face Fitz. “I have a date,” she blurts.

Fitz tries to ignore the way his stomach lurches. “Oh. Great,” he says, trying his best not to make it sound as sarcastic as he means it.

Jemma tucks her hair nervously behind her ear. “It’s weird, I know.”

Fitz shakes his head. “No, it’s not weird.” Because the last thing in the world that would be weird is Jemma getting asked out on a date. What’s weird is that it hadn’t happened sooner.

Her eyebrows draw together, creating vertical wrinkles above her nose. “Are you upset?”

Fitz’s eyes widen. “Of course I’m not upset!” he denies. “I mean, this is good, right? This is why we’ve been practicing.”

Jemma takes a deep breath and nods. “Right. I know. It’s just…” She exhales heavily and puts a hand over her heart. “It’s just my heart is beating really fast and my stomach feels funny, which usually only happens when I feel unprepared for a test, which means I’m feeling really anxious, I think.”

“When have you ever been unprepared for a test?” Fitz jokes. He reaches forward and puts a hand on her shoulder. “It’s just nerves. You’ll be fine.”

Jemma bites her bottom lip. “You think I’ll be okay?” And Fitz can hear the real question underneath - they’ve been giving each other negative kissing feedback for so long that she’s actually worried that she’s going to muck it all up.

“You’ll be more than okay. You’re a brilliant kisser.” Fitz winces as his own words reach his ears, hating how stupendously ridiculous it makes him sound.

“Oh,” she breathes out, relieved, a pink flush spreading across her cheeks. “Thanks,” she laughs awkwardly.

Fitz scratches the back of his head, looking down at the floor. “Well, I should probably be thanking you,” he mumbles. “You’re always making sure I’m prepared.” And while he wasn’t necessarily prepared yet for his mozzarella stick to go inside of anyone’s onion ring, or even to taste anyone’s onion ring, he’d had a good amount of practice doing just about everything else, thanks to Jemma. The only other thing she hadn’t prepared him for was having to stop because she found a sampler platter she liked better.

They both jump when the timer goes off. Jemma lifts the lid off the pot and peeks inside. “Dinner’s ready,” she announces. She gives Fitz an apologetic look. “Sorry we’re eating later than usual. You’re probably famished.”

He smiles at her. “It’s fine.” And it’s true. He has never felt less hungry in his life.

\------------------------

"I have to admit, Michael, when you said you were taking me out for authentic American food, this isn't quite what I was envisioning," Jemma says brightly to cover her disappointment as they follow the hostess to their table. She slides into a booth, and much to her chagrin, Michael slides in next to her. Jemma gazes longingly at the empty seat across from her.

"You haven't experienced the true America until you've been to an Applebee's!" Michael exclaims.

"So I've heard," Jemma mutters. Apparently, the true American experience is suffocating in a noisy, poorly-lit chain restaurant because, instead of oxygen, the air inside is composed of pure, unadulterated awkwardness.

Jemma bites her lip and turns to look at Michael. _Boundaries_ , she reminds herself. _Be assertive_.

"Michael, would you mind terribly if one of us sat on the other side? I'd prefer to face you while we talk," Jemma requests politely.

Michael's eyes widen in understanding. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry. Of course." He jumps up and situates himself across from her. "It's a force of habit. My ex always wanted us to sit on the same side, and I just got used to it, I guess." He pauses and winces. "Probably shouldn't mention my ex on a first date. I'm so sorry. I seem to be saying sorry a lot." He looks down at the table and tugs on his collar. "I guess I'm a little nervous," he mutters.

Jemma smiles at him. "It's quite alright. Nervous suits you."

Michael looks up at her. The corners of his mouth curve up into a tentative smile. "To be honest, I never understood why couples like to sit on the same side of the table."

Jemma's posture softens slightly, relaxing now that she knows that they at least have this in common. "Me neither!" she confesses. "What do you even look at? The empty seat in front of you?"

"Exactly!" Michael agrees. He leans forward. "You have no idea how validating it is to know that my opinion is shared by an actual genius," he confides.

Jemma blushes and tucks her hair behind her ear. "Well, you must be quite brilliant yourself if you got recruited into the Academy. I'd love to hear about your dissertation."

Michael opens his mouth to speak, but is interrupted when the waitress walks up to their table. "Can I start you two off with some drinks?"

"We'll have two caramel appletinis and the sampler platter," Michael requests. Jemma wrinkles her nose. Ordering for other people seems to also be a habit for him. He turns to Jemma once the waitress leaves. "They have the best caramel appletinis here."

Ah. And there's the awkwardness again.

\-----------------------

Fitz glares angrily at the television screen as he watches _Fifty Shades of Shark_. “C’mon, mate!” he complains. “Have some respect for the lady!” He’s going to have a long talk with Sally on Monday - he can’t _believe_ she thought he could get wooing tips from _this_. 

Not that he has anyone to woo. Nope. Not at all.

Which is ridiculous, really. He’s been so caught up in practicing with Jemma that he hadn’t thought to look at his prospects in a really long time. But that’s definitely going to change. She’s going on dates - that means he should, too.

Fitz turns off the television and retreats to his bedroom. He flops onto his bed and flips through the issue of Popular Science he received in the mail earlier this week.

If Jemma is dating, that means that they won’t be practicing anymore. And maybe he doesn’t even need practice anymore. Maybe they’re past that. Maybe Fitz is ready to apply his skills in the real world.

But Fitz does love to be prepared. It’s just one of Jemma’s qualities that has rubbed off on him. Not to mention the numerous _qualities_ that she’s rubbed _on_ him.

He closes his eyes and flops back onto his pillows. This is absolutely ludicrous. He’s alone at home, reading a scientific magazine on a _Friday_ , and he’s getting half-hard because he’s merely thinking about the completely platonic practicing they’ve done.

And really, when he thinks about it, he doesn't need Jemma to practice. He can practice by himself. He glances at the unopened jar of Vaseline sitting on his nightstand.

He sighs in defeat. “What the hell.”

\--------------------

“Thanks for dinner,” Jemma tells Michael as they approach her apartment building. Though dinner had been a bit strained, the walk back to the apartment had been excellent. The weather was lovely and the light breeze that drifted through the neighborhood was warm, allowing Jemma to walk home comfortably despite only wearing a light cardigan over her short-sleeved dress. The clear and cloudless sky allowed the bright light of the moon to illuminate their way home. “I had a nice time.”

Michael winces. “That bad, huh?”

Jemma’s eyes widen. “What do you mean?”

Michael laughs. “You, Jemma Simmons, are a terrible liar.”

“I’m not lying,” Jemma protests, because it really was nice. Well, nice and a little boring. And a lot awkward. But Michael is a decent person and is very kind and has a very symmetrical face, which almost makes up for the fact that he doesn’t understand anything about either of her dissertations and has the social graces of an ostracized llama.

“You’re not planning on going into the field, are you?” Michael teases, good-naturedly. He nudges her shoulder with his, before turning to face her when they reach the door. “Look, don’t worry about hurting my feelings, alright? We can be friends.” He steps away and smiles at her. “Good night.”

Jemma reaches out and grabs Michael’s wrist as he turns away. “No goodnight kiss?” she asks. Because this - _this_ \- is the whole point. Jemma has data from approximately 300 trials with her experimental control and she needs _something_ to compare to it.

Michael furrows his brow. “Really?” he asks doubtfully. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Jemma assures him. She pulls him closer to her and tilts her chin up. Michael bends down to give her a brief kiss. Much like Michael himself, it’s nice and a little boring.

Jemma smiles at Michael when they part. She softly punches his arm. “I guess I’ll see you around, buddy.”

Michael lets out a little laugh and shakes his head. “You are probably the oddest girl I’ve ever met.” He turns and walks away, turning back around abruptly after a few steps to worriedly shout, “In a good way! It’s not bad!”

Jemma laughs and waves him off. “I know! Good night!”

Jemma feels oddly giddy as she skips up the stairs and into her apartment. She’s relieved to find the lights on and the half-eaten bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, evidence of Fitz’s presence. She goes straight to her room to change into her pajamas. Maybe since it’s still early, she can convince him to watch a movie with her. Then her weekend can _really_ get started.

\------------------------

Fitz looks down in horror at the mess he has on his hands...and everywhere else. Trying his best not to touch anything, he runs straight to the bathroom. He turns on the faucet and presses his hips forward against the sink so that he get Nagini under the running water.

To Fitz’s dismay, Jemma chooses that exact moment to walk out of her bedroom, the door to which, because the cosmos is against him, is right next to the wide-open doorway of the bathroom. She raises her eyebrows when she sees him, tilting her head and looking at him curiously. “What are you doing?” she asks.

For a moment, Fitz just stands there frozen. “When the hell did you get home?!” he blurts. Jemma’s dressed the way she’s always dressed on Friday nights - in a camisole and patterned pajama bottoms (tonight it was polka dots), with her hair tied in a messy topknot. If he hadn’t seen her leave the apartment and if she didn’t still have makeup on her face, he would think that she never left for her date. Spotting the towel hanging on the door hook, Fitz lunges for it and wraps it around his waist.

To his dismay, Jemma squeezes past him into their narrow bathroom, flips down the toilet seat lid, and sits on it criss cross apple sauce, like she’s a goddamn kindergartener about to listen to a story on the reading rug. “About five minutes ago,” she responds casually, as though she is not witness to his eternal humiliation.

Fitz busies himself with washing his hands. “What are you doing home so early? Did the date go okay?”

Jemma shrugs. “It was fine. The food was fine. The weather was lovely. Michael was very nice.”

Fitz grimaces as he pumps more soap into his hands. The stupid Vaseline is not coming off.

Jemma gives him a little half smile. “What did you have for dinner tonight? Beef Strokenoff?”

Fitz wishes he could sink into the floor and die. Instead, he hops into the shower so he can wash off Nagini without Jemma scrutinizing him.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed, Fitz,” Jemma assures him, as he swings his towel over the door. “It’s not like I’ve never seen it before.”

“Oh, God,” Fitz groans. He turns on the water and tries to tune her out.

“You know,” Jemma says loudly over the sputtering shower head. “Since I’m home so early, maybe we can watch some telly. I’ve been meaning to re-watch ‘Buffing the Vampire Slayer’!”

“Stop!” Fitz whines.

“You deserve to have some fun, Fitz,” Jemma tells him seriously. “Especially considering you spent your evening hard at work, debugging your hard drive.”

Fitz turns off the water and reaches for his towel. Unfortunately, it slides out of his grasp. Fitz pulls the shower curtain to the side so he can peek his head out. “Simmons!” he scolds.

Jemma grins, holding the towel in her hands. “So I’m back to Simmons, now?” She pouts playfully. “I thought we were friends.”

Fitz scowls. “So did I, until you stole my towel.”

Jemma pulls the curtain aside and throws the towel over him, completely covering his head. “Silly Fitz. I’m just trying to help.” She scrubs the towel vigorously over his hair for a few seconds before moving it down to his shoulders.

Fitz hunches over, holding his arms over Nagini. “I’m perfectly capable of drying myself!” he complains.

Jemma moves the towel over his chest, before lowering it to his arse and hips. “Simmons! Stop!” Fitz whines, snatching the towel away from her.

Jemma folds her arms over her chest. “I don’t know why you’re so sour.” She gestures towards where he’s wrapping the towel around his waist. “I mean, Nagini looks happy enough.”

“Is this why you’re home so early?” Fitz asks accusingly. “So you can torture me?”

“Torturing you is much more fun than talking to Michael,” Jemma agrees. “I’ve never been so bored in my life. We hadn’t even gotten our food yet when I realized that I didn’t much care whether or not he thought I was a good kisser.”

“Yeah?” Fitz tries his best not to sound so desperate and hopeful. “So...no good night kiss?”

“Oh, there was.”

Fitz frowns. “Oh. But I thought you said…”

“For scientific purposes,” Jemma explains. “I had to see if there was a swoop.”

Fitz wrinkles his nose. “A swoop? I don’t think I know what that is.”

Jemma shrugs. “Just...when I kiss you, there’s always this swoop in my stomach. And I don’t know whether I experience it because of kissing in general or if I feel it just when I kiss you.”

Fitz anxiously rubs the back of his neck. “And what did you find?”

“In general? The data were insufficient,” Jemma informs him. “But if you’re asking specifically about Michael, no. I did not feel the swoop with him.” She averts her gaze. “But my sample size is still too small. It might be something I need to investigate further in the future. But in the meantime…”

Fitz raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

Jemma looks down and tugs nervously on the drawstring of her pajama pants. “I mean, you don’t have to, obviously. But I was just thinking it wouldn’t hurt to increase the number of trials on my control - with you, I mean. To increase reliability.”

Fitz nods. “Well, I suppose if it’s for science…”

Jemma nods enthusiastically. “It is.”

Fitz shrugs. “I suppose I wouldn’t mind getting more practice in as well.”

Jemma grins at him. “Great. So what shall we watch tonight?” She turns and bounces into the living room. “ _Sharkness Falls_? _Shonnie Sharko_?”

Fitz pouts, following her into the living room. “What happened to practicing?”

Jemma turns and gives him an incredulous look. “Fitz! I meant in general. I just came back from a date tonight. It would be weird for us to practice right after that!”

Fitz rolls his eyes. “Yes. _That_ is what’s weird about our situation.”

Jemma tosses a popcorn kernel at him. It bounces off his forehead and lands on his towel. “ _Shark Kind of Wonderful!_ ” she exclaims, excited. Jemma gives Fitz her biggest, most watery puppy dog eyes. “Pleeease?”

Fitz smiles and shakes his head. “ _Shark Kind of Wonderful, it is._ ” It’s not like he’s ever been able to say ‘no’ to Jemma Simmons.

He doesn’t think he’d ever want to.

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued...;)


End file.
